531 My Love
by MockingVenus
Summary: In a land built upon war from centuries past, two very unlikely paths will cross. One of aristocracy and one of Slavery. One from Victoria and one from the Wastelands. A gentle man with kind green eyes, and a traumatized boy with an icy gaze. Mr. Arthur Kirkland and 531. (AU, USUK, human names used) Rated for language and possibilities.


_...Five-hundred years ago_

_ Screams saturated the air as aircrafts circled the sky. Bombs dropped, haphazardly landing on buildings and people alike. Bodies were strewn across streets and fields as no one had time to pick them up, much less give them proper burials. Children wailed for their departed parents while parents cried for their lifeless offspring. The dieing moaned in agony while the dead gave little solace. The scene could be surmised as such: chaos. _

_ Through the wreckage and carnage, one could see gunmen lining the streets, trying all they could to protect their beloved homeland. Ill equipt and lacking in numbers, the men fought tooth and nail to save what was theirs. Shot after shot, the men of both armies fell. One by one, the weak died, and the strong suffered. If anything at all was clear at the moment, it was that hope was lost._

_ The invaders from the East lined the remaining men up, and shackling them, took them as slaves. Those who struggled were blinded or shot, their children forced to watch. Worn, filthy faces stood motionlessly in the streets while watching families be torn apart and herded as cattle. Through the majority of skulls echoed the same question; why? _

_ In single numbers, the slaves were branded and sold to end their days working in the fields, misery their constant companion. Though many lived and died in their toil, some escaped back to the ruins of their homeland. Friends and relatives would greet their shaking, emaciated figures with tearful eyes and open arms. As the City of Victoria was raised up upon _the _squalid,exhausted hands of slavery, the Wastelands survived by the will to survive._

..._..._

Sunlight fluttered in through the silk curtains enveloping the room. Streams of gold and blue danced across the room in lackadaisical patterns trying to reach every inch that they could. The cream marble floor shimmered in the radiant glow while the elaborate blue walls gleamed with an air of pride.

Past the walls littered in silk and paintings , past the antique chifferobe and dresser lay a small pocket of motion within the room. In the royal blue canopy bed stirred a young man of twenty-five. After giving a half-hearted yawn and stretch, two slender legs slung themselves over the edge of the bed and pulled the young man along with them. Shaking the golden crop of hair out of his face, he lazily glanced at the grandfather clock to his left. _Almost noon._ He'd woken up early.

After cleansing himself and changing into a new suit, the young man ventured into his kitchen, his shining shoes clicking on the black marble floor. From the white painted cupboards he pulled out a box of tea bags, a warm smile adorning his face. Morning tea was always his favourite chance to relax, but from what, he wasn't sure.

The lustrous kettle let out a chipper howl, its hot contents spilling into the porcelain container. Misty steam rose up and danced around the room. _Mmm_, mint tea, a gift from his mother. Hmm, speaking of which, he hadn't spoken to her in a while. He knew she was rather busy tending to his brother, Peter, a boy of 13. He frowned at the thought. She was bound to be plagued with the thoughts of her deceased husband, but as quickly as the tea was guzzled down, the thoughts dissipated back into a pleasant array of possibilities the day could hold. Perhaps he would visit her soon. Maybe, bring some homemade scones along.

The phone rang interrupting his museful thoughts. Glancing to the clock on the far, burgundy wall, the time was 10:42. He wasn't the only early bird today. Setting his cup and saucer upon the glass coffee table, he reached for the line.

"_Hullo?_"

"_Oi! Arthur, so you are up already mon ami? What luck!_" Rolling his eyes, Arthur reached for more tea. "_What do you want Francis?, I'm very busy today._"

"_Oh hon hon, but Arthur, we both know that is a lie! Let's cut to the chase, oui? There is a magnificent art gallery opening up near the town square. We'll all be going there today, care to join us?_"

An art gallery, eh? "_Who exactly is going?_"

"_Antonio, Gilbert, his brother Ludwig and Kiku_"

Antonio, Gilbert and Francis were notorious for crashing into events uninvited, but the promise of Ludwig and Kiku led Arthur to believe the event would be enjoyable. He inwardly smiled, it would be pleasant to see his friends again. They had all been so busy lately. Francis, Antonio and Gilbert had all been at the southern beach resort for the past two weeks,only having recently returned, bodies tan and faces covered in slap marks from classier women. In their absence, Arthur had hoped to waste away the evenings with his childhood friend; however, fate had other plans as Kiku had been away to Lumbridge to visit his ailing aunt. Even Ludwig, Gilberts reserved brother, had been busy with some sort of training. Yes, a visit with his friends would be splendid.

"_I'll be there, frog._"

"_Ah, marvelous! we'll meet you at three!_" With a click, the line went dead.

With a few hours of waiting ahead of him, Arthur decided to continue his current novel. The characters had once thrilled him to no end. Wizards casting spells and heros rescuing maidens leapt from page to page as his eyes raced through the words. Setting the book down, an odd feeling crept into his stomach, a strange emotion flooded with something reminiscent of boredom. With a pale cheek resting in his palm, he reclined further into his leather couch. Was he really this starved for social interaction? Ugh, he wasn't used to feeling boredom, his comfortable lifestyle had usually provided all the entertainment needed. Perhaps he simply wasn't accustomed to being relatively alone for so long. Whatever the case, seeing his friends again would surely remedy his case of cabin fever. Slipping his shoes off, he headed back to his chamber to nap away the time.

With time passed, and Arthur redressed, he made his way to the square. His black car glinted in the noon sun as it glided over the freshly paved roads. He always loved a good drive. All around him, manicured lawns and leviathan houses lined the streets. Trees blossomed with flowers and gardens sprung forth at all corners. Spring was such a beautiful time, especially in Victoria.

Pulling up to the curb, another wave of unease swept over him. From his parked spot he could see everyone gathering around where he presumed the gallery was to open. He shook his head trying to scare off any residual doubt; it would be good to be social again. With all the elegance he could muster, he stepped out of the car and into the crowd.

"_ Arthur, how nice to see you._" from the crowd stepped a Japanese boy only a few years older than Arthur. A gracious smile curled at his lips as he extended his hand to his childhood friend.

"_A pleasure to see you as well._" A took the proffered hand and shook it gently. He could see Antonio and Gilbert walking towards him, their idiotic smiles seeming so childish and warm.

"_Eh! Arthur, long time no see!_" Antonio laughed amusedly. Gilbert hooked an arm around Arthur's neck in a sophomoric display. "_Yeah!, Good to see you in the sun!_"

Arthur scoffed and pushed Gilbert off. He was about to remark on Gilbert's albinism when he realized they both had tans. "_Yes, yes, It's been a while I suppose._"

"_Arthur!_" Oh bloody hell, the frog. "_Arthur! How nice! I didn't expect you to show!_"

"_What's that supposed to mean frog?_" His thick eyebrows knit together in bubbling annoyance.

"_Well, when's the last time you've actually left the house?_"

"_I!_-" When _was_ the last time he'd left on his own accord? Sure, he'd made plans, but when had he grown so accustomed to being home? "_...Come on frog, the doors are opening_"

The new building was huge, lavished in ivory and silver. Paintings from various artists adorned the walls as sculptures lines the walk ways. Decorative plants and lights added bright bursts of colour all about. As Arthur walked through the hall, he noticed Ludwig conversing with a group of aristocrats. Hmm. Even Gilbert's socially awkward brother was fairing well, perhaps the night would be just the dose of social interaction he needed.

"_Oh! Look Arthur! Wan_g_ Yao's new collection is featured!_" The man airily skipped off the exhibit. _Hmph_. Could the frog be anymore flamboyant?

Rolling his eyes, the young man followed. Following the silver rug, his eyes shifted from side to side. Paintings of cheerful men and women lined the walls; but, something was..._off_ about them. He could see in a just a few of them shackles on their ankles, in a few other, metal collars of sorts. "_What are these about?_"

" _Ah yes, my service collection._" Arthur jumped. How had this man snuck up on him so easily? Taking a second glance, he noticed the man was of Asian descent. Without waiting for a reply the man continued. "_My name is Wang Yao, and I am the artist who painted these_." He held out his hand waiting for recognition.

"_H-Hello, I'm Arthur Kirland. Uhm, may I ask what these painting are of?_" He lightly shook the hand offered.

"_Arthur! You really do live under a rock!_" Francis seemingly popped out of nowhere. "_This is Mr. Yao's new brilliant collection! It features an in-depth look at the life of a house servant_!"

"_Thank you Francis, and yes, this series was made to show a more...personal look into their lives._" His long hair swayed slightly as his raised his chin in pride.

"_Hmm, I don't think I've ever see a house servant_. _Do people still use them_?"

Wang and Francis gave twin looks of shock. "_Well of course they do! I myself have a few._"

"_Yeah Arthur, I actually picked one up a few weeks ago to look after the house while I was gone._"

_"Really?"_ It seemed so strange to Arthur, yet a sudden idea popped into his head. _"These servants, what are they good for?"_

_ "Oh hon hon, my my Arthur, I never thought you were the naughty t-"_ Francis was cut off by a forceful smack upside the head.

_"NOT THAT YOU DAMN PERVERT!"_

"_If I may"_ Wang cleared his throat. _"House servants are a wonderful investment. They cook, clean, or really whatever you want. I even have one to tend to my nieces when they visit."_

The idea of having all of his social needs fulfilled from the comfort of his home intrigued him. Sure, the idea of boarding somewhere, or even getting a room-mate had crossed his mind, but this seemed so much easier. _"By chance, would you know where I could get one?"_

_"Why yes, actually. Right down the street Ivan has just refilled his stock." _Wang continued. _"Ivan is a personal friend of mine and an excellent Grand Master. All of his servants are healthy and bright."_

He knew he should really take more time to think about it. This would be a big responsibility, not quite owning a pet, but still. Sensing his hesitation, Wang interrupted again. _"And, if you find you don't like it, you can always take it back for a refund."_ It certainly pushed the rest of Arthurs doubt to that back of his mind.

_ "Well, this sounds like a splendid idea."_

The short walk was pleasant. Birds chirped as the gentle breeze rustled the quaking leaves. Unfortunately, Mr. Yao had declined his offer to join him, and the frog did not. Francis babbled non-stop. Vacation this, house servants that. If he weren't so lost in his own thoughts, he would've told the man to belt up.

This could be a wonderful opportunity. No more lonely days simply trying to enjoy what he loved. Relaxing. Relaxing to Arthur was a good book and a hot cup of tea. He could even arrange to have the servant bring him tea at certain times every day! And scones, how could he even forget about that? Perhaps he could find a servant with wonderful cooking skills. Never again would he eat his 'delicious' burnt scones. He began to hunger simply from the tantalizing thoughts.

"_Ah! Here we are!_" Francis swung the door open revealing a sight the destroyed any hunger he felt.

Filthy, disgusting people lined the walls. Most were strung up by their arms, left dangling in painful postures. Their greasy, sweat filled faces all targeted Arthur. _"Well hello!"_

The booming voice startled Arthur. _"h-hello..."_

_"Hello Ivan, this is my friend Arthur, he is here to buy a servant!" _The chipper attitude shocked Arthur even more than to gaunt faces glaring at him.

_"Well of course he is! Ahahaha"_ A few servants cringed at the hearty laughter. _"Please, do not be turned off by the show room here, these people are just a little tired from their long journey here." _Ivan encircled one long arm around Arthur's shoulders. _"Let us continue to the main exhibit area, yes?" _

They were led down a long corridor to a large room. In this area, servants were both shacked to the walls and floor. There must have been hundreds. The dreary gray room reflected what they must have felt. "I'll leave you be. Call for me when you've made a selection, yes?" And Ivan walked away.

Incredibly overwhelmed, Arthur looked to his friend _"Francis, I-"_

The frog squeed giddily. _"I'll go look over there!"_ he shouted before prancing off.

...Well fuck... Arthur began to wade his way into the mass of distraught people. He wasn't normally one to get stage fright, but with all eyes on him, he began to sweat. This was terribly awkward. What if one of them asked why they weren't chosen? What would he say? Sorry lad, but you're not good enough? As if the answer his ponderings, a young woman spoke up.

"Sir! Please buy my childr-" She was abruptly cut off. A buzzing noise echoed the area as she convulsed on the floor. The collar on her neck had shocked her. So that's why they didn't speak.

He spent what seemed like hours walking through the selection until he finally reached the back of the room. Looking back he could see Francis in the far front making absurd gestures to some and squealing about what cute outfits he could find for someone amongst the crowd. He almost turned back into the collective. He lost his nerve. He couldn't go back there. Instead, he turned his attention to the hall behind him.

Nervously, he looked around the corner. A few scattered rooms resided there. No harm in looking right? Slowly he crept to the first door on the right. Inside were nothing but children, no thank you. It seemed the next two yielded the same. Frustrated, he decided to check one more.

Suspended by arms tied behind his back, a young man hung, dead center. Sweat glistened off his sun kissed skin, his shirt long discarded. Arthur stepped into the room. The noise alerted the boy to his presence. His unruly wheat coloured hair shifted as his once limply hanging head rose. The blood rushed out of Arthur's head, he felt dizzy. Two bright orbs, as clear as the sky shone directly into his eyes.

"...Ivan!"


End file.
